Unnecassary Bothers
by Clydell Humphries
Summary: "I believe we have a predicament, liebe. You believe this is less a joyful occasion for the two of us as it is news for the magazines?" "...I'm sorry, Klavier." A week before the wedding finds Ema dreading the event, as it seems half the world will be observing something not made for her. But when Klavier discovers her concerns, it's too late to fix anything, right? Klema, fluffy.


Ema hated it whenever a fuss was made over something.

There was always an issue like that in her life, no matter the time. At work, too frequently there was a case that 'had the authorities baffled'. A case that was declared 'impossible to solve' and 'a complete and utter mystery' by the media. But more often than not, the forensics department were able to work out the truth behind it easily, so long as they had access to the crime scene.

With the damned media interest however, it made things easier said than done. All because people had found some interest in the investigation, they'd crowd around the scene to get a glimpse at the 'unsolvable case'.

_Idiots_, Ema thought. Don't they realise that they're the ones _making _it unsolvable by being a nuisance?

Then there was the fop, though she knew she shouldn't really be calling Klavier Gavin – her fiancé and boss – that anymore. She was aware there was much more to him than the glimmer that had his fans' attention, and the voice she'd slowly but surely learned to love, yet people still made a huge hassle over him and whatever he did. Female co-workers blushed furiously upon speaking a word to him; fans still stayed by the entrance to the prosecutors' office and crime scenes in hopes of seeing him in person. All despite the fact that the Gavinners broke up three years ago, and that he no longer performed.

When Ema had asked one day _why_, Klavier had only given her that stupid, annoying yet desirable smirk, twirling a lock of hair in his finger while replying, 'the little Fräuleins are just excitable Ema… but is that jealousy I sense, liebe?'.

It almost always earned him a Snackoo to the head. Almost.

But well above all, the thing Ema hated a fuss being made over was none other than herself.

Right now, it seemed damn well unavoidable. Too often she spied a camera being pointed at her, regardless of her partner's lack of presence, as well as somebody following her around and asking about her opinion on cases, Klavier, and worst of all, _wedding preparations_.

In a week, she would be walking down the aisle in the dress she'd chosen. Simple, unique, but most of all, like her. Sadly, what she was wearing was about the only thing she'd gotten to decide regarding the big day, supposedly the happiest of her life.

A week after the engagement was announced they already had mountains of offers from wedding planners. Among the promising pile, she and Klavier had chosen one that had good reviews, who seemed to be on the same page as they were.

Now, as Ema looked around their home, where most of the supplies were being kept for safety, she felt a lump rise in her throat, having to hold back tears that weren't from happiness or contentment.

It was just a show, all of it. The stupid, good for nothing wedding planner had taken the whole event as an opportunity to strut their abilities, to put on the most publicised and over the top affair the city had seen in years for their own personal gain. As her eyes scanned the room, from the flowers that looked far too exotic to the stupid, frilly tablecloths, her thoughts that this was not at all her were confirmed.

The guests that were coming were mostly celebrities, people that were expected to be at such a high profile event. She'd been hard pressed to get an invitation out to those she actually wanted to attend; Apollo, Trucy, Phoenix… she had been horrified to learn that Lana, her own _sister_, had been left off the list until she herself had sneakily added her on, knowing that the planner wouldn't have bothered.

He had his own ideas, and nothing Ema suggested, or even ordered, him to do changed them in the least. Faster than she'd thought possible, the ceremony had turned into a living nightmare, one that she was the centre of attention for.

All in the short space of two months.

She kicked herself for not realising it earlier. But with the sudden flood of cases that had hit them, both her and Klavier hadn't actually had much time to access the situation. Though she knew there were things she disliked, and wanted to get fixed, Ema had been powerless to do so.

Was it too much to ask for a quiet event?

"Stop it," she told herself roughly, trying to wipe the lone tear that had made its way down her cheek. She'd only now realised that she was on the ground, curled in a ball among the clutter of items, the glamour and splendour that would paint the scene in a week's time. "You are being absolutely ridiculous. So what if this isn't actually what you'd planned in the first place? You're marrying the man you love, aren't you?"

_But everybody will be making a huge fuss over it; not just those you know, but complete strangers to the two of you, who will heckle you and pretend they know you, and congratulate you with huge smiles on their faces because the scene is exactly what they want, instead of you,_ the voice inside her said. _As for Klavier, he probably doesn't mind. He's used to this sort of thing, isn't he? He practically lives in the spotlight, this will hardly be different from any other day. But _you're _not happy, are you?_

Ema groaned, another feeling of helplessness overwhelming her.

"Miss Skye?"

She slowly looked up, meeting the uninterested gaze of the planner, the man who she felt had ruined everything. Her lips pressed together in a tight line. "What?" she replied coldly.

"I'd like to request that you step away from the items," he said, his voice professional. "We don't want any of them broken, it will be far too troublesome to replace them so close to the big day, and I'm under too much stress for that to happen." He added a sigh at the end, looking at her as though she was a child.

"Stress?" Ema repeated, the word seeming foreign. She felt a flame ignite within her, setting off a flurry of emotions. "Yes, you're right. You're definitely under a lot of stress, planning the wedding which will obviously rocket your career." Before she knew it, venom was lacing each word, and she had risen to her feet. "You have everybody doing as you say, but in the end your heart's not really in making this a happy day for my fiancé and I, is it? I requested only a few things; that my family and friends be there, and for not too much of a fuss to be made. You couldn't even do that! Would you have taken this job, if Klavier wasn't who he was? If there were no cameras watching every move, if there wasn't the chance that this would be broadcast _live_?" Knowing that she'd eventually say something she'd regret more, Ema instantly turned on her heels, quickly manoeuvring her way out of the crowded room.

Of course, her foot chose to get caught on one of the boxes just when she thought she'd escaped, causing her to fall forwards roughly. For a moment, her heart jumped, and she resisted the urge to scream.

It wasn't a particularly uncomfortable landing, thankfully. Arms aching slightly, she began to hoist herself up, only to find that the job was much easier than she expected, as somebody else was there. For a moment, she feared that it was the damned wedding planner, who would just _love_ a chance to gloat silently. She pulled herself away roughly, glaring at the one next to her.

Klavier's concerned, blue eyes looked back at her.

Her gaze softened immediately, and the two stared at each other for a while, neither sure what to say. Ema eventually looked down, a dread slowly creeping its way into her.

How much had he overheard?

"Are you alright, Fräulein?" Klavier asked eventually, arm around her waist. His voice seemed calm enough, Ema noted, but he could be hiding any emotion underneath. He was good at that.

"Physics," Ema muttered.

He smiled slightly. "Sir Isaac Newton's been giving you a bit of trouble, has he? I'll have a word with him; we can't have the beautiful bride being injured so close to the wedding. Come, it's getting late."

"Yeah," was all she could muster the strength to reply with. Not bothering to turn around, even to glare at her own personal Satan, she left with Klavier, the door closing gently behind them.

* * *

Klavier brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, a troubled look crossing his features. "I believe we have a predicament, liebe."

Still avoiding his steady gaze, Ema was unsure of how to reply. She'd racked her brains during the short journey to their bedroom, yet nothing surfaced. In the end, there was little she _could_ say.

"You… are not happy with the way things are going, are you?" the prosecutor clarified. "I could not help but overhear what you told that man, about this not being about a joyful occasion for the two of us as much as news for the magazines."

"I… I'm sorry," Ema finally managed to stumble out. "Klavier, I'm so, so sorry."

"But what for?" the other replied. "This is hardly your fault. I've seen that man work, and know how he has been acting; it would have been better for us to choose a planner we knew personally. Herr Wright even recommended one, but we ignored his advice." He shook his head slowly. "At any rate, the planner was only listening to me, and I was listening to what the public wanted rather than the person I was sharing the day with. This is my fault, and I express my apologies." He sounded sincere, as well as ashamed.

"No, I should have spoken to you sooner if I had a problem with it!" Ema defended. "But things just seemed to go so fast… then we got hit by the cases at work, and we just lost track. Now, the wedding's in a week, and everybody is watching, and making a huge deal of it. It's too late to change what has happened, and that's my own doing." She finally looked up at him. "I just don't see a point in having people we don't even know watching." She suddenly realised what she was saying. "…I'm being selfish again."

"Hardly."

"But this wedding was what _you_ want. You're used to this! Now I've gone and-"

Klavier chuckled softly, quickly leaning forward to kiss her. "You never cease to entertain me, you know. This wedding isn't what I want, if you're unhappy. Haven't I said it often enough that I love you? I don't care what the wedding is; there can be a million people watching, or none. As long as I get to married you, and you're smiling, I'll hardly notice the difference. So now Ema… tell me what _you_ want."

Her face burned at the prospect. "Aren't we supposed to decide this together?"

Klavier sighed. "Perhaps I'll tell you what you went then, as you're reluctant to. You would like Herr Wright, Fräulein Trucy, Herr Forehead, Fräulein Lana and of course, Herr Frills… or rather, Herr Edgeworth, to attend. Similarly, I would very much like for my old band members to be there, with the exception of Daryan, as well as Lamiroir. You would like photos to be taken, but not for the media; for albums. And at the end of the day, you don't want such a big deal to be made out of an event made for the two of us."

Ema was breathless, and could only nod. He'd described everything she'd wanted effortlessly.

"It sounds beautiful," he murmured. "Just… peaceful. And amazingly like you. You never go through so much effort to make a fuss; it's like a replication of your personality. _Ich liebe es._"

"But if you like-" Ema tried again.

"You've missed the point!" Klavier interrupted. "Ema, I go about my life being followed by people. So for the wedding… to me, there barely seemed to be a difference. But there is for you, and if you feel uncomfortable, then it's to everybody's benefit that something is done." He sighed, rubbing her arm. "I love you. I don't need to see a few stars, liebe. And I'm sure my fans can deal with not having a few extra photographs of me and the most beautiful women in the world. The day matters to the two of us; nobody else has a right to influence what happens." He examined the ring that lay on her finger, smiling. "Remember, I gave that to only one person. Not to thousands."

"K-Klavier," she choked, throwing her arms around him. "You…" She couldn't muster the strength to say anything else, only burying her head into his shirt, inhaling deeply. Usually she would be embarrassed at such a display. She was far too touched to care.

"I will fix this. You have stressed over nothing, Ema," he told her soothingly, stroking her back. He felt her trembles stop, and chuckled slightly. "You're getting soft. Where's the fiery and irritable detective I fell in love with?"

"If I had my Snackoos here…" she said warningly, arms tightening around him.

"I would be getting one straight to my forehead, ja?" Klavier guessed. "Nein, please don't do that. I'll have a big black bruise in the middle of my head, and that surely wouldn't look nice in photographs."

She pushed him onto his side of the bed, crawling under the covers. "Well, you can borrow some of the makeup they'll be piling on me for the wedding then," she joked, though the empty feeling returned to her.

"Hey," he said gently, his arm touching her shoulder gently. "Didn't I just tell you that I would sort everything out?"

Smiling slightly, Ema rested her head on her pillow, closing her eyes.

It was impossible. Though Klavier had told her he would fix things, there was no way he would be able to change the wedding so drastically in less than six days. Guests had been called, things had been ordered, and at the end of the day nothing would stop the damned planner from having the event just as they wanted.

Klavier just looked over the one who was gradually falling asleep, the beginning of a plan slowly forming in his mind.

* * *

Ema awoke the next morning, faintly surprised to find the other side of the bed empty. Her eyes opened slowly, and she wondered what had called Klavier so urgently that he would leave. It usually took a heavy alarm clock, lots of pillow whacking, and plenty wasted Snackoos to get the rock star to rise in the mornings.

Turning slightly, Ema noticed that it was only 7. Frowning, her eyes closed again. There was no way she was going to get up that early when she didn't need to.

Wait… what had been there, next to the alarm clock?

Her arm outstretched, and after some fumbling she grasped the piece of paper in her hand. Bringing it back to her, her eyes opened. Unfolding it, she read the message inside.

_Join me for breakfast at 10, liebe?_

Ema snorted. How ridiculously like the fop. Still, she had a hidden smile on her lips; only he would invite her somewhere via a note, rather than telling her in person. Perhaps he did it so she could sleep.

Two hours later, she felt boredom creep on to her, and she couldn't give in to the urge to slumber any longer. Yawning, she sat up, blinking a few times. Things seemed too… quiet. Eventually she got out of bed, slowly getting ready for the day.

After showering, brushing her hair and wearing whatever decent clothes she could find, she left her bedroom, feeling as though there was something missing. The conversation from last night seemed to burn in her mind, but she tried to make herself forget it. There was no point expecting in a miracle.

As she was about to push open the door leading to the living room, Ema hesitated. Frowning, her hand slipped from the knob, and she leaned in further.

Familiar voices could be heard from the other side. Not the voices of the wedding planner or assistants, but voices of people she knew well. Was that… Lana? But no, that didn't make sense; why was she here when she was due to come in another two days? And… Apollo? Why were they in her house?

"Eavesdropping, Fräulein?" somebody whispered.

Ema jumped higher than she thought possible. "K-Klavier!" she hissed, turning. "What are you…" She trailed off the moment she got a better look at him.

He was wearing a suit, deep purple in colour. His hair, rather than being in its usual style, was nicely done, the bangs in front of his face slicked back while the drill remained untouched. It was in the same set up that he'd decided to use for…

"Your wedding clothes…" Ema murmured, "and your _hair_?"

"Ja," the prosecutor replied, smiling. "Shall we proceed?" Without waiting for an answer, he kissed her on the forehead, opening the door that lead to the living room.

Ema's eyes scanned the scene quicker than she thought possible. Her jaw dropped when her thoughts had been confirmed; her eyes rested on every occupant of the room for a few moments at a time as she finally realised what it meant.

The room was decorated in a nice manner to replicate an aisle. On both sides she saw the faces of all the people she'd forged some relationship with as, as well as the people Klavier had done the same to. Her heartbeat sped up.

"Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife, Ema?" he asked, grasping her hand gently. "Right now?"

"But the wedding… the _planner_!" Ema managed to stumble out. "This is like signing our own death warrants!"

"Not quite, Miss Skye," a calm voice said. She looked to the source, and realised it was one of the former Gavinners, the drummer. His arm was around a woman's shoulders that stood next to him, beaming widely. Both knew Klavier well. "As long as they get their high profile event, the public won't care who it is getting married, will they?"

"They've offered to have the wedding that was originally planned for us, liebe," Klavier informed her, smiling. "Because honestly, I think it's better to their tastes than ours." He stepped further into the room, arms spreading outwards. "I think I prefer this… wouldn't you agree?"

Not caring about the amazing amount of people watching, Ema threw her arms around him, kissing him quickly on the lips. "It's perfect," she breathed. "Absolutely perfect… scientifically speaking." They were silent for a few more moments, Ema still revelling in the bliss that he had done something like this for her. The nerves of knowing she would be married – peacefully – in perhaps minutes seemed to be non-existent.

"Now, I don't mean to be rude, but can we get on with the show?" a rough voice rang out.

Klavier looked up, frowning at another former band mate. "Why I ever played music with such an impatient person I'll never understand," he muttered. Turning back to Ema, he was glad to see her smiling widely. The scene could have been anything around them; as long as the smile remained, he couldn't have cared less. "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

* * *

**A/N: So. That was my first shot at writing Klema. *laughs nervously* I feel as though I've killed Ema.**

**Just a bit of fluffy stuff that I wrote, a break from the serious that is currently happening in my chapter story. I hope you enjoyed this; any feedback would be useful, since I have a longer story of these two planned that will be uploaded soon :)  
**

**~Clide**


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